English poem

On Captain Francis Grose.

The devil got notice that Grose was a-dying, So whip! at the summons, old Satan came flying; But when he approach'd where poor Francis lay moaning, And saw each bed-post with its burden a-groaning, Astonish'd! confounded! cry'd Satan, "By——, I'll want him, ere I take such a damnable load!"

More by Robert Burns

On A Wag In Mauchline.
On Andrew Turner
On Being Shewn A Beautiful Country Seat
On Capt. Lascelles
On Captain Grose's Peregrinations Through Scotland, Collecting The Antiquities Of That Kingdom.
On Captain Matthew Henderson, A Gentleman Who Held The Patent For His Honours Immediately From Almighty God.
On Cessnock Banks.
On Chloris

All 924 poems by Robert Burns